It measures roughly eighteen metres east to west and twelve metres across, rising only about thirty centimetres above the surrounding ground. Nothing announces what it once was. Visitors walking among the headstones might easily step across it without a second thought, assuming it to be a quirk of the ground rather than the compressed remains of a medieval religious building.

What survives here is the platform of an abbey, its walls long since robbed out or collapsed and absorbed into the landscape. A faint trace of an outer wall-face is still just legible at the eastern end of the northern side, hinting at the original footprint. Graves have been cut into the interior over the centuries, a common pattern in Irish ecclesiastical sites where communities continued to bury their dead within the sanctified outline of a ruined building long after its roof had gone. A small stone structure to the west, now overgrown, may once have served as a family vault. A chapel stands roughly fifty metres to the south, suggesting that religious use of this ground persisted even after the abbey itself fell out of function.